


The Trick to Topping Akashi Seijuro

by Neonna



Series: The Trick To Topping Akashi Seijuro [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Gaping, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Begging, Blow Jobs, Cock Rings, Come Swallowing, Dirty Thoughts, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Hand Jobs, M/M, Marking, Mild Blood, Minor Violence, Near Future, Orgasm Control, Past Child Abuse, Porn With Plot, Power Bottom, Rope Bondage, Safewords, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5985778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neonna/pseuds/Neonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akashi Seijuro was so much more than he appeared to be. Midorima can't help, but he fascinated with his lover since middle school, and hopes he can help Akashi to overcome some of his past trauma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EchizenRyomaLover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchizenRyomaLover/gifts).



> This piece has been in the works since before I even opened my account at AO3. Akashi is one of my favourite characters, so I wanted to take my time with him. I really hope I hit the nail on the head here, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Also, please let me know of any wrong words being used, my writing program kept wanting to replace 'ass' with 'assumption'. It made for lots of laughs during the proof-reading process. Enjoy!

**The Trick to Topping Akashi Seijuro**

 

Akashi Seijuro fascinated him. What wasn't there to be fascinated about? He was charismatic, ambitious, dominant. He had the aptitude to lead with grace and care, or cruelty and viciousness. Yet, for all his dominance in life, Akashi inherently preferred to bottom.

Midorima Shintarou couldn't take his eyes off his lover. Akashi sat in a high-backed armchair with his legs crossed, and an open book on his lap. His head was tilted to the side, supported by an almost delicate closed fist that was propped on the armrest. His eyes moved back, and fourth across the page with a bored look on his face. Akashi's posture was that of someone who had lived his entire life in command of those around him. And it did something to him to know that Akashi could be flipped entirely around: ordinarily clear, calm eyes that could turn clouded, and brimming with tears. A mouth that gave orders could be contorted into a perfect 'o'.

“You're staring, Shintarou,” Akashi said without taking his eyes off his book. “Lower your head.”

Midorima did. His gaze slid back down to the open textbooks in front of him. A pencil held in a loosed grip had stilled in his admiring Akashi. He adjusted his glasses, and went back to his work.

Akashi's submissive nature was not enticed from him easily. He was stubborn, and did not like to be inconvenienced. Of course, Akashi would never ask to bottom. If one does not have the intelligence to do something as simple as figure out how Akashi likes it, they are not fit to top him in the first place. Akashi was not a person that one forced themselves on either as it only made the Rakuzan captain need to dominate first. Instead, he required a more delicate, but equally dominating touch. It was not easy, and Midorima had only managed to truly top him a handful of times during the time they had been together.

Midorima's pencil raked across the page, producing a sound so loud it seemed to echo across the walls of Akashi's study. The tension in the air was palatable. Akashi knew what he was up to, and was challenging him, daring him to go through with it. If there was any mistake to be made, the first would be assuming that Akashi was ignorant of his scheming. It was such an error that Midorima had never made, and it wasn't due to luck either. Akashi saw everything, noticed everything, even if it didn't seem like it. It was an elementary lesson that Midorima knew far far too well. The Rakuzan captain hated defiance in every aspect, and when confronted with it, the urge to correct it was overwhelming – no, uncontrollable. It was in his nature to force subservience, whether through direct, or indirect methods. In making the assumption that he was somehow pulling the wool over Akashi's eyes as it were, that in itself would be considered an act of defiance. Because, assuming that he was somehow sneaking something past the other boy was also belittling Akashi's intelligence, and _that_ could be dire indeed.

The trick was patience. If Midorima was going to top Akashi, he had to pick just the right moment to make the first move. Akashi would scoff at any hint of desperation because desperate people were below him. On the other hand, he couldn't appear disinterested, or Akashi would find something that was more worth his time. Time was another factor. Akashi was busy. He was a leader in every aspect, and as such, his time was insurmountably precious to him.

Therefore, the process of topping Akashi was a combination of finely honed skill, and incredible luck.

The minutes ticked by, and multiplied. Only after the first hour passed them by, and the second one was well upon them, did Akashi's eyes slide from the pages of his book to Midorima, and back again. Got you.

That glance, so subtle that it would not have been noticed had Midorima not been watching for it, was – and to put it in Aomine's words – Akashi's what the fuck equivalent. It was the physical manifestation of his own curiosity. He had known what Midorima was up to when he was being stared at, but when Midorima went back to his studying without acknowledging him, it left him wondering if Shutoku's best shooter had the guts to go through with it. In other words, Midorima was playing hard-to-get, but it was a game that had to be played with the utmost care.

Midorima took his time, stretching both arms in the air, and tilting his head back to allow Akashi a view of his throat. His actions would not be overlooked, and bearing such a delicate, exposed part of his body would stir something deep in Akashi. It was something primal, instinctual.

He simultaneously got to his feet while pushing his notebook closed with the tips of his fingers, but his eyes raised to stare, heavy-lidded at Akashi. As expected, Akashi was no longer reading, but waiting to meet his gaze. Once again, it was a challenge, a dare. Neither were ignorant of what was being left unsaid. They both knew what was going on.

Midorima felt the slow burn of the stirrings of arousal. This game they played together sent a rush through him. This was Akashi Seijuro after all.

He slid fingers of one hand into the pocket of his pants, and moved around the table slow, but with purpose. He had to stay in Akashi's line of sight. It was no joke that Akashi was a cornered wildcat. A wrong move would cause him to be bitten. Hetrochromatic eyes followed him, unblinking.

When he felt he had moved close enough, it was Akashi who broke the silence. “Shintarou. What do you think you're doing?”

Frightened was not the correct term to describe what Midorima knew Akashi was currently feeling. Akashi knew what was going on, knew Midorima's intentions, but he didn't like it. His nature was making him lash out, and it was up to Midorima to soothe him. He had to quell Akashi's dominant instincts. Here, he needed to show he was worthy of taking complete control.

“I'm going to kiss you, Seijuro,” Midorima spoke frankly, accepting the dare Akashi was offering him by the use of his first name.

He slid his free hand across the back of Akashi's chair, and supported himself as he leaned down. The position forced Akashi to raise his head to keep his eyes locked with Midorima's, and by keeping one hand in his pocket, he allowed Akashi to have some space. Attempting to physically trap the redhead would be ineffective. Like before, his movements were slow, but deliberate. If spooked, Akashi would either run, or flip the encounter by dominating Midorima, and his goal was to prevent either from happening.

A shock rippled through him as he brushed his lips across Akashi's, but he squashed his own arousal immediately. Akashi Seijuro required his full attention.

Midorima stayed like that, brushing his lips against Akashi's, and flicking his tongue over his bottom lip. In effect, he was giving Akashi a choice, he was asking permission. It wasn't until Akashi remained unresponsive to his advances that he knew he had made his first mistake. Those who aspire to top Akashi Seijuro shouldn't be asking for permission as those who do are subservient to him. Midorima didn't allow his disappointment to show as he straightened his spine, pulling away from his lover. He wasn't disappointed in Akashi, that was be impossible. It wasn't Akashi's fault he had made such an error. Still, a part of him had been excited to spread Akashi's thighs wide, hold him pried open to watch his cock disappear into his ass.

The hand that cupped him through the front of his pants made him gasp, and the air he had just sucked into his lungs rushed out again as he was grabbed by the front of his shirt only to be yanked down until his nose touched the fabric of the back of Akashi's chair. He could feel Akashi's lips brush against his ear.

“You're trying to seduce me, Shintarou,” Akashi purred. “Look at you, so hard, so needy already. Are you that desperate to see me spread before you?”

It would be so easy. All he had to do was rock into Akashi's hand like he so desperately wanted, and let Akashi fuck him. It would feel so good. He loved it when Akashi fucked him. His lover knew how to hit all the right places that make him tremble, but that wasn't his goal. Midorima's jaw clenched, and he swallowed, hard, regaining his self-control.

Akashi was dangling a string of chance in front of him. If the redhead had thought his error so grievous, he would have either put a stop to their exchange altogether, or Akashi would simply take what was his, which, in this case, happened to be Midorima. Akashi was choosing to do neither, instead, he had asked a question, and was waiting for the response.

Midorima breathed against the musky smell of leather, his face still smashed into the fabric. It wasn't in the question itself, Midorima knew this. Akashi was expecting a response, but what he was searching for wasn't in the literal way. A simple answer to the question Akashi posed would mean putting himself lower than his lover. To admit his desires so openly demonstrated a complete lack of self-control, and thus, forcing him into a submissive position. On the other hand, to deny his impulses so completely was childish.

Raising a hand, Midorima wrapped his fingers around Akashi's still fisted in the front of his shirt. Leaning on his other arm for support, Midorima pulled himself up until he was eye-level with Akashi.

“I am not desperate,” Midorima said, keeping his voice calm, and under control. “It is your own insecurities that are making you think so. I simply want you.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Midorima had made a gamble; he had attacked Akashi, but he had done so with logic, and calm. It had been Akashi's own fault for attempting to force submission from Midorima with near-cruelty. The redhead had slipped up, and for now, Midorima had the upper hand because for Akashi to respond with anger now would show that he was the weak one.

Akashi leaned back in the chair with a sigh, his hand slipping from around Midorima's shirt to fall onto the armrest. His expression was that of annoyance, but his eyes told a different story. Behind Akashi's eyes there was amusement, and faint traces of lust. Akashi enjoyed this game just as much as Midorima, and reveled in it when someone had the wits to play it right.

Akashi's body posture went back to the one he had used while reading: one arm relaxed against the armrest, and head tilted to the side to rest his cheek upon the fist of his other hand. He tilted his head away from Midorima, exposing the side of his throat. Akashi's expression remained indifferent, but his eyes flicked to the side. This was as close as Akashi came to begging.

It was only the first step. Bedding Akashi Seijuro was a task in itself. To be so uncouth so as to reach right for the zipper of Akashi's pants would be a mistake. He wanted to be teased, pleasured, and licked in all his sensitive places. Being as dominant as he normally was, those places scattered all over his body so often got ignored while Akashi's bed partner struggled with his over-bearing presence.

Midorima eased down to his knees in front of Akashi, but he was not submitting. Midorima was doing the exact opposite. Akashi watched him as he pulled the book from his lap to set it on the floor, and gently pulled his legs from a crossed position until they were spread enough so Midorima could settle himself in between them. At the feel of Akashi's legs, pressing warm against either side of his hips, Midorima felt himself pulse with anticipation.

Akashi wasn't going to immediately relent, and Midorima didn't expect him to. His lover's eyes gazed at him with a steady expression as Midorima leaned forward. It was obvious why anyone had rarely – if ever – topped Akashi. While Midorima hadn't honestly inquired about the redhead's previous bed partners, he couldn't imagine many people having the ability to cope with the insurmountable pressure. Akashi's presence weighed heavy on him as he ran his tongue down the side of his throat. It was as though the smaller man were physically lying himself on Midorima's back. Akashi moved his head to the side just enough so Midorima could nose at the sensitive patch under his ear, but his posture was still dominant. He showed no sign that he was enjoying what Midorima was doing to him, and a nagging began to build in the back of Midorima's mind. It was a mixture of irritation, and a touch of anger. His feelings were nothing but his own wounded pride; insecurities, and fears that he wouldn't be able to please Akashi, that he alone wouldn't be enough for him. He imagined that he looked like a dog, on his knees before his master, licking at his throat like an eager puppy. No. He couldn't allow his emotions to spiral out of control, or he would lose the game.

In his own show of dominance, Midorima closed his teeth on the pale, unmarked flesh of Akashi's throat. The bite wasn't rough enough to break the skin, or even leave a mark, but the near inaudible gasp that left Akashi's lips was unmistakable. Spurred on by the noise, Midorima opened his jaws wide, scraping his teeth, and nipping a trail down to his collar bone. Akashi was opening to him now, steeling himself, and tilting his head back just a little.

As his mouth worked the sensitive spots along Akashi's jaw, kissing around to his ear, and running his tongue along the rim, Midorima's fingers hooked at the tie around his lover's throat, tugging it loose. Another nip to his lover's ear. Another tiny moan, and Midorima was sliding the first few buttons at the collar of his shirt through their holes. As Midorima latched onto a particularly sensitive spot at Akashi's collarbone did the smaller boy dare to allow a louder moan to escape him. He sucked on the pale skin, but stopped, pulling back before it left a mark. His tongue found passage down the center of Akashi's chest, fingers continuing to undo the buttons of his shirt, and clearing a path to the skin beneath. As his mouth licked in between his nipples, Akashi arched clean off the chair, and up to him, a strangled moan catching in his throat. Midorima smiled, and made a detour, circling his deft tongue around one of Akashi's perfect pink nipples.

Midorima's tongue worked him as his hands pulled Akashi's shirt from the waistband of his pants, and undid the rest of the buttons. Pushing the shirt open, Midorima allowed himself to a moment to enjoy the view. Beneath nearly flawless skin was tight, sinewy muscle, which was pulled taut from him arching up to Midorima's mouth. Akashi's lips glistened from licking them, and his hair was beginning to rumple. He ached to see Akashi completely undone. Akashi was staring at him through half-lidded eyes, and Midorima leaned forward again. He slid his hands around Akashi's middle, and pressed their chests together, burying his nose in the crook of Akashi's neck. He allowed his bandaged fingers to scrape over the skin of Akashi's back, hearing the responding gasp. By the time Midorima had trailed his wrapped fingers around to brush against a nipple, soft pants were escaping Akashi's lips, and he could feel his lover's thighs twitch on either side of his hips. Akashi was hard, and ready.

Gripping him tight, Midorima hoisted him from the chair, and carried him the short distance to his desk where he was thrown onto. The redhead fit perfectly width-wise along the surface. If he pulled his legs up, his ass would be aligned with the edge, and his shoulders barely cleared the other edge. Akashi had to flex his stomach, muscles bunching to keep his head up, to watch what Midorima was about to do to him.

Akashi's gaze pierced him, pressing into his skin until breaking the surface of the delicate flesh. It was almost painful to be on the receiving end of that gaze. Akashi Seijuro was not selfish, he did not take from his bed partners. Playing the dominant role, he gave endlessly, tirelessly. Akashi could have anyone screaming, begging for release, but it was all for their own benefit. He pushed limits, breaking through his partner's comfort zones to gift them an insurmountable pleasure. With the help of his incredible observational skills, he noted every miniscule gasp, sigh, and shudder that he elicited from those he bedded. No reaction passed by him unnoticed, and Akashi adjusted accordingly, but it was only a mirror. Victory came as natural to Akashi as breathing, but in the bedroom, he mirrored the actions he wished to be taken upon him. This Akashi was delicate, and had to be treated with care.

His cock was so hard, heavy in between his thighs, and pressing uncomfortably into the zipper of his pants. The game he played with Akashi had him riled up more than usual. Very few, if ever, had been in his position, had seen the Rakuzan captain spread his legs willingly.

Untaping his fingers took time, but there was no need to rush. If anything were to interfere now, it would simply be attributed to bad luck. Midorima had done all he could.

His fingers were pristine, almost as pale as Akashi's skin, the pads soft from being protected. The long strings of tape piled on the floor as each finger was exposed. When the last piece of tape was removed, Midorima curled his hand into a fist, giving the stiff digits a moment to breathe, and regain circulation. Akashi waited through the entire process, silent, the bored expression having returned, sliding back onto his face as naturally as a pond stills after a stone is thrown through its surface.

Flicking the first few buttons at his own collar undone, Midorima leaned over his lover again, but this time he grazed the fingertips of his left hand down the skin of his chest, exposed by his gaping shirt. The reaction was immediate, the soft pads tickled at Akashi's skin, and making him arch. Midorima traced down the ridges of Akashi's stomach, fingertips dipping into the individual muscles there before sliding into the waistband of his pants. Midorima toyed with the fabric, tugging for a moment, teasing. When his hand trailed back up Akashi's chest, Midorima leaned forward, and braced a knee on the desk to keep himself suspended above his lover. Such a position forced Akashi's legs to fold, and instinctively wrap around Midorima's waist. The feeling was so sweet that Midorima's hips ground down without his consent, drawing a tiny gasp from Akashi's lips.

His wayward hand dragged across Akashi's nipple, but did not grab the hardening nub, instead he stroked the bare flesh with his fingers, carefully, and gently. While Akashi twisted wonderfully beneath him, Midorima saw it; the iron grip Akashi kept on himself was slipping, slowly, but steadily, he was giving himself over, giving up control. His eyes became clouded, and his body more dynamic, responding to Midorima's touches with quiet moans that grew louder.

He knew better than to break Akashi's trust by marking him where it would be obviously seen later. Akashi was so sensitive that when Midorima sank his teeth into his shoulder, he cried out. The bite only lasted a moment before Midorima pulled back to soothe the abused skin with his tongue.

“Shintarou.” Akashi shivered, twisting his head away from him, openly exposing his throat.

Midorima knew better than to reply. Everything he had done up until that point had been carefully planned, he couldn't lose control now. Akashi needed these sessions, needed someone to relieve him of his burdens, but only skilled hands could do it. It wouldn't do for anything to shake Akashi from this state, to wake him up, and remind him that he was slowly losing control.

He watched the glaze in Akashi's eyes carefully, watching it spread as his fingers, and tongue carved hot paths down Akashi's body. Only when it had engulfed his eyes completely did Midorima pull off him. He walked around the desk, and reached to grab hold of the leg of Akashi's pants. Like a rag doll, he yanked him length-wise on the desk. The swift movement made Akashi's arms fall above his head where Midorima pinned them with one hand around his wrists. Akashi's face was slack, eyes half-closed, and lips parted. Normally he would be challenging Midorima every step of the way, using the scenario to gauge his strengths, and weaknesses, always planning something, but not now. Now his mind was fully stripped, focused only on the sensations. He was finally in the correct state of mind.

Keeping Akashi's arms pinned above his head, Midorima slid two fingers from his left hand between Akashi's lips. His tongue was slack in his mouth as though he were asleep. When he began to unconsciously mouth at the digits, it made Midorima shiver. The tips of his fingers hit the back of Akashi's throat, his mouth sucking them eagerly inside. Midorima curved them so as to not choke his lover, and stilled, refusing to allow Akashi to suck them in deeper. The moan of protest that vibrated through his fingers made him echo the sound. He knew what Akashi wanted, but he wasn't sure his self-control would hold out. He never lasted long when Akashi was like this.

“Shintarou,” Akashi moaned again.

His legs were shaking with the strain of holding back as he hefted himself onto the desk to straddle Akashi's chest. His belt clinked as he undid the clasp, and eased his pants down his hips until he was able to reach into the folds of the fabric, and grasp his cock. He was sizable enough, thick, and veiny, the length of his cock tinted darker than usual. Akashi's hands hadn't moved from their place above his head, even though Midorima no longer held them there. He gazed at him with eyes unfocused, opening his mouth obediently when the head of Midorima's cock touched his lips.

Midorima thrust into the warm wetness of Akashi's mouth, but stopped just after the flared head had disappeared. Just as he had done to his fingers, Akashi mouthed at him weakly, and Midorima jerked the rest of his length with slow strokes.

It wasn't that Akashi hadn't given him head before, he had, more times than Midorima could count, but this was different. Akashi was different. This wasn't something done for his pleasure.

Akashi moaned, the sound vibrating up Midorima's cock. He felt Akashi move beneath him, arching, thrusting. His hands clenched, and unclenched. Midorima jerked himself faster, biting down on his lip to contain his own sounds of pleasure.

“It's coming, Akashi,” he panted, not daring to raise his voice any more than a husky whisper.

When he came, cock twitching, shooting down Akashi's throat, the redhead swallowed meekly around him, tendrils of come dribbled from the sides of his mouth. Midorima massaged his throat, gently helping him to swallow his load. When he had finished, Akashi smacked his lips as though he had eaten something tasty, which gave Midorima the time to reach for the lube, and condoms stashed in Akashi's desk.

He took his time getting Akashi out of his pants, stripping him from the waist down, but leaving his shirt, and tie. He lubed up one finger, and slowly eased it inside of his lover. Akashi was tight, almost painfully so. He wasn't as loose as Midorima, and not used to being fucked. Even in his current state of mind, Midorima would have to go slow.

He didn't notice the passing of time, he was so focused on Akashi. His ears strained to listen to every sound, each gasp, and whimper while his eyes watched the tight ring of muscles become loose around his fingers. Akashi was panting by the time Midorima had worked three fingers into him. He splayed his fingers, coaxing the tight walls to stretch until he could move easily. When he was ready, he pressed the head of his cock against the gaping hole, stretched to where it would no longer close completely. Akashi arched, his back coming off the desk as Midorima pushed the head of his cock into his lover.

The heat was delicious, and Midorima could feel Akashi twitching around him. His lover was incredible, so fucking beautiful lying on his back with Midorima's hands on the back of his knees, holding his legs in the air. He waited patiently for Akashi to adjust to his girth, his breaths becoming less laboured before he pulled back a fraction of an inch, and thrust in, sliding a little deeper where he paused again. It continued like that, slow, and gentle until Midorima bottomed out, his balls pressed snugly against Akashi's ass. This time, when he paused it was just as much for himself as it was for Akashi. His cock forced Akashi open, the tightness of his lover massaged him, moving with each breath Akashi took.

Akashi's body let Midorima know when he was ready, loosening around him, and finally accepting the intrusion. He began with slow, shallow thrusts that made Akashi writhe below him. Each time Midorima slid into him, he moved up the desk. Placing one of Akashi's legs over his shoulder, Midorima slid his hand to grip his lover's hip, pulling him toward him, and pinning him to the desk. His other hand, still holding onto Akashi's leg, held him open as he watched his cock disappear into Akashi's body again, and again. He wasn't going to last. Hearing the strings of needy moans falling from Akashi's lips, rising in pitch as Midorima thrust deeper, harder had his cock pulsing.

It was when the murky cloudiness in Akashi's eyes suddenly cleared that Midorima's thrusts stuttered, losing his rhythm. Those mysterious eyes narrowed at him, and Akashi demonstrated incredible flexibility as he pushed himself into a sitting position, one leg still over Midorima's shoulder. Fisting a hand into the front of Midorima's shirt, Akashi yanked him down until their noses almost touched, Midorima had to brace an arm on the desk to keep himself from falling forward.

“Fuck me, Shintarou,” Akashi growled, the words crawling out of his throat in the form of a threat.

A groan fell from his lips as Akashi tore his glasses from his face. Midorima curved his spine, instinct driving him to thrust deep. While his mind was pre-occupied, both of Akashi's legs had wrapped themselves around his waist, following his rhythm, and aiding to push him deeper. His own mind was becoming clouded now, the pleasure pushing cognitive thought to the edges of his being. He felt himself twitch inside of Akashi, and a primal growl ripped itself from him as Akashi dug blunt nails into the back of his neck, tearing a few strands of hair. He snapped his hips forward, making Akashi throw his head back. Mindlessly, he closed his lips upon the spot on Akashi's throat, just below his adam's apple. A great satisfaction warmed deep inside him as Akashi's breaths became laboured under his mouth.

He felt Akashi's hard prick rub against the underside of his belly, trapped in between them. The fabric of his shirt began to chafe his lover, and Akashi yanked his shirt out of his pants to drape over him. He moaned, feeling the droplets of pre-cum smear against his skin, evidence of Akashi's excitement. It was the wetness down his back that finally made him gasp. Akashi's hand at the back of his neck had plunged down his shirt where nails broke skin. The excruciating pleasure-pain made him groan out his release, and after a few more thrusts, felt Akashi empty against his skin.

 

Their night wasn't done, not even close.

By the time morning came around, Midorima lie, completely spent on Akashi's bed. He marveled at his lover's endless stamina as he watched him adjust the tie at this throat. Akashi's expression was blank, nothing giving away the fact that he had spent all night with a cock pounding his ass. His hair was damp from a shower, and he paused in front of the mirror, turning his head from side-to-side. Akashi was ensuring that none of the marks that Midorima had left on him were visible, and it made Midorima smile.

“Stay as long as you like,” Akashi said, pulling his jacket over his shoulders. “I'll be back later.” With an absent wave of his hand, Akashi closed to the door to his room.

Midorima sat up, wincing as his tired muscles protested. He rolled his shoulders, and got to his feet to draw a bath from the jacuzzi in Akashi's en suite. As he leaned back in the warm water with a sigh, he couldn't help, but shake his head. If only the world knew about that side of Akashi Seijuro.


	2. I Am Akashi Seijuro, Of Course

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to show both kinds of development where Akashi was concerned: I wanted to show that he grew emotionally, but also that sex between him, and Midorima had evolved as well. The smut is very different than the first part. I added less explanation throughout because I figured their relationship has developed to the point where it isn't needed in the same sense. Due to the issues discussed in this fic, it is more serious than it's predecessor. I wrote the first part to be more-or-less like a game, and there's a bit of that here, but there's definitely a much more serious undertone. I marked this as a future fic because most of it takes place while in their final year of high school. I hope I managed to nail it. Enjoy!
> 
>  **Warning:** this fic may trigger some readers for emotional, or mental abuse. Please read the tags carefully before proceeding.
> 
> P.S. A big thank you to EchizenRyomaLover for their wonderful prompt. This would never have gotten a second part if it weren't for you. <3 I also didn't know how to get your attention as there was no contact information on your profile, so I gifted it to you! It's my digital equivalent of running up to you, and showing you what I've done.

 

There existed two Akashi Seijuro's.

Midorima had thought it impossible. There was no way two people could exist within the same body, but there was no denying the change he had witnessed. It had happened right in front of his eyes; one moment he was Akashi, and the next he was...someone else. The original Akashi cared for his teammates, and looked out for them. He commonly fell back on tough love, but he always had their best interests at heart. The second Akashi was colder, and Midorima had a hard time gauging his intentions, but it was something in the way Akashi spoke that hinted at them not being his own. The day Akashi played Murasakibara in a one-on-one in front of the entire team at Teiko, that other Akashi had wormed his way back in, and taken over, but this time he was there to stay. Midorima had seen the second Akashi before, but only less than a handful of times, and the change never appeared to be permanent.

Those closest to Akashi noticed the change instantly. The air in the gym shifted, and all Murasakibara and the rest of the generation of miracles could do was watch, feeling small in Akashi's shadow. When he had announced that Midorima, and Kise didn't have to come to practise anymore, Midorima tried to catch his lover's eye, but Akashi either didn't notice, or didn't care.

“As vice-captain, I don't support your decision,” Midorima said after he had lingered in the gym long after the rest of the team had left for the night.

Akashi held a ball in his hands, and had been idly shooting it into the net.

“It was you who had said that you didn't support the coach's decision to allow Aomine to miss practises, and then you suddenly change your mind?” Midorima continued. “I can't accept it.”

The eyes that turned on him were not the eyes of the lover he had grown to know. Akashi's eyes were widened, and half-crazed as he faced Midorima. He held still, holding his breath as Akashi walked towards him, dribbling the ball with each step. The echo of the ball on the gym floor hurt his ears, but he refused to look away.

“Are you trying to act against me, Shintarou?”

Midorima reached out to his lover, needing his touch, but something in Akashi's eyes made him hesitate. This wasn't a simple lover's spat like they had in the past. Akashi was making this into something more.

“No.” Midorima's hand fell limply to hang by his side. “What's happening to you, Akashi?”

The smile Akashi gave him made chills run up his spine. It was hollow and dry, and Midorima visibly flinched when Akashi raised a hand to place on his chest. “What do you mean?” Akashi asked. “I am Akashi Seijuro, of course.”

He began to scour medical journals, and read anything that might give him a clue as to what caused the change in Akashi. Midorima began to learn about psychology, neuroscience, biology, anything he could get his hands on. He did his best to understand the complex terminology, but his junior high brain was too little, his reasoning skills too limited.

Midorima swore, and shoved the pile of books off the table, papers scattering everywhere. He felt the prickle of tears at the corner of his eyes, and clenched his fists, feeling the dull press of his own nails against his palms. He was too weak, not able to help his lover even the tiniest bit. His choked sob echoed in the quiet of the library, and there was no one to see him come undone. His knees buckled, and he clung to the table like a drowning man. He finally allowed the helpless feeling wash over him, tucking his face into his arms.

Midorima stayed like that, wallowing in his own despair until a shifting sound behind him startled him to his feet. Hands hastily wiped his face, and he turned to the sight of Akashi. The redhead studied him with eyes unfeeling before his gaze slid from Midorima to take in the sight of the books, and papers that had been knocked to the floor. When Akashi looked back to Midorima with an unchanging expression, a deep silence stretched between them.

Akashi moved forward to take Midorima's lips in a deep kiss, and Midorima didn't stop him. The heat from Akashi's touch crackled along his skin instantly, making him gasp. That was the first time that Midorima had spread his legs for Akashi. He had done so willingly, his lust stemming from the need for physical contact from his lover.

Akashi never harmed Midorima, not physically anyway.

\----------

There was something wrong with him.

Akashi turned a shogi piece in between his fingers as he stared at the board without really seeing. Outwardly he appeared to be intent on the game, but in reality, he was wading through a sea of his own emotions.

Something was off.

Emotions were not strange to Akashi. He experienced a wide spectrum of them frequently, and he felt deeply. It was necessary to understand himself if he was going to understand others, which was a rudimentary skill of good leaders. Some emotions were more familiar to him than others, and the one currently churning inside his chest was definitely a stranger to him.

His yukata slipped off one shoulder, exposing his chest to the air, and raising gooseflesh on his skin. Akashi allowed it. There was no one to see him in such an unkempt state in his own house. The coolness made him shiver, unconsciously arching his back, but it helped to clear his head.

Twin sets of red narrowed as he felt Midorima's hands scrape up his body, over his ribs. It was a memory, of course, but more shocking was how he had tilted his head back to expose his throat, panting, and moaning for more. He had wanted to feel lips on his neck, lips that turn to teeth, biting, and marking him, had begged for it, why? Akashi trailed pale fingers over his own throat. It was the most vulnerable part of his body.

Midorima had been his lover since middle school, having grown close as captain and vice-captain. Now, in their final year of high school, were still together, and things were beginning to change. Both Akashi, and Midorima would attend vastly different universities, Akashi's family having chosen a prestigious university in America, and Midorima would remain in Japan. Being so far apart from his lover hadn't concerned either of them as all through their high school career it was common knowledge that Akashi attended Rakuzan in Kyoto, while Midorima attended Shutoku in Tokyo. Midorima understood the implications of wanting an intimate relation with Akashi. The Rakuzan captian came from a high-class family, he would continue to have responsibilities for the rest of his life. No, the change was internal, and Akashi was beginning to suspect that it was only occurring inside him.

The door opened behind him, and Akashi made no move to cover himself. The lack of apology, or hesitation as the door was closed again let him know who the visitor was. The footsteps were soft, but self-assured, approaching from behind.

“You've calmed down a lot,” Midorima noted as he took a seat on the other side of the shogi board.

“Oh?”

“Since the Winter Cup in our first year.”

“Of course. I learned about failure that day. I learned that failure is not the end, and it does not have to be a negative thing. It is such a lesson that will make me even greater than my father.”

“Yet, you haven't lost at anything since then.”

Akashi smiled. “Well, knowing about failure, and striving for it are two different things.”

Akashi felt Midorima's eyes on him, eyeing his exposed chest, but he ignored it, his mind too preoccupied with his previous thoughts.

They played for a while, a comfortable silence stretching between them. Akashi's mind - not yet able to find an answer to the questions that puzzled him – began to wander. His gaze drifted lazily to his lover across the table, and studied him while Midorima studied the board. At times like these, Midorima's brow wrinkled, drawing his eyebrows tight together, and when he was really focused on something, he would absently chew the inside of his lip. Something tugged in Akashi's chest, making his gentle smile falter. There it was again. The new feeling, what was it? Fondness? No...love, but somehow the word didn't do the justice.

Akashi felt a great connection to Midorima, which wasn't unexpected due to the nature of their relationship, but there was also a deep yearning there too. Something was missing.

Midorima was currently visiting Akashi's home in Kyoto, but he would have to leave the next morning. It was a busy time for him. He aspired to be a doctor in Japan, and he had refused Akashi's help as the captain of Rakuzan could use his family's influence to ensure he got into a good university, but his lover was determined to get there on his own. His ambition was commendable...

Akashi shook himself. There was definitely something wrong with him.

\----------

Midorima started awake. It was violent, his spine stiff from sleep protesting as he involuntarily jerked upright. Without being fully awake, his hand slid across the bed next to him, but all he felt were cold, empty sheets.

“Over here,” a soft voice called, and Midorima blinked, willing his eyes to focus, and feeling an urge to curse when they refused him.

A soft chuckle. “I am here, Midorima. Do not fret, go back to sleep.”

“Akashi? Why are you out of bed?” Midorima patted down the nightstand in search of his glasses, and when he put them on he had to bite back a gasp.

They were in Akashi's house as they most often were because no one bothered them there. Inwardly, Midorima always thought Akashi looked most exquisite in his own home, and tonight was no exception. Akashi sat curled on the window sill in a traditional japanese kimono. The red in the fabric picked up on the red in his hair, and eyes, which made his pale skin all the more noticeable. Akashi had one leg stretched along the sill, the limb peeking out from the confines of the kimono, and making Midorima ache to slide his hand along it. Sitting there he looked almost feminine, and Midorima felt his cock slowly filling.

Akashi saw the look he gave him, of course, and smiled gently. “I couldn't sleep,” he said. “You gave me quite the start with your violent waking. What were you dreaming about?”

“Just about the change you underwent at Teiko.”

“Ah.” The pain was evident on Akashi's features, and his gaze fell to the floor even as he ducked his head. Akashi didn't apologize, but he didn't make excuses either. He said nothing because it wouldn't accomplish anything.

When he raised his eyes to look at Midorima once again they had cleared, but Akashi's features never took on the same hard edge he wore at Teiko. His loss to Kuroko at the Winter Cup their first year was the straw that broke the camels back, and had brought the Akashi Midorima had been searching for back.

“Go back to sleep,” Akashi said as he turned his head back towards the window.

“Are you nervous?” Midorima asked.

Akashi didn't answer him, but Midorima could see the mess of emotions flickering across his lover's face. Akashi wasn't sure what he was feeling.

Gathering the sheet about his waist, Midorima pulled it with him as he moved towards the window. Akashi watched him struggle for a moment with barely-concealed amusement as the sheet tangled with the comforter, and Midorima pulled everything but the fitted sheet from the bed. Despite his fumbling, Akashi said nothing.

The playful air once again turned serious as Midorima bent to brush his lips against Akashi's. Where previously Akashi would have challenged his forwardness, now he leaned into the kiss, and allowed Midorima to tangle his fingers in the soft hair at his nape. Their kiss was slow, and easy, unhurried as their lips moved against each other. Akashi's lips were always soft, and plump, his upbringing never allowing the skin to crack, or peel. Their positions forced Akashi's head back, bearing his throat, but Midorima didn't touch. He didn't try, and dominate the encounter because Akashi hadn't asked him to.

When Akashi began to press back more insistently, Midorima opened to him, and felt his heart skip as Akashi's practised tongue slid between his lips to lick at the inside of his mouth. The hair against his fingers was so soft as Akashi's tongue slid against his own, and Midorima instinctively tightened his grip a touch, making Akashi gasp. The sound cleared Midorima's head instantly, and he pulled away with a mumbled apology. His cock pulsed as it brushed against the sheet he still clutched around his waist.

Akashi leaned back against the window, and the blue hue from the light outside filtered through the glass, catching in Akashi's hair. The light framed his form, making his skin seem more pale than it was, and hid the small smirk from Midorima's view.

A testament to Akashi's grace, or mischievous nature when the mood was right, Akashi reached to stroke Midorima through the sheet, but the pleasure he managed to bring with a simple flick of his wrist was staggering. It happened so quickly that Midorima didn't notice it until his knees felt as though they were about to buckle, and he had to reach a hand out with a thud against the window to catch himself. Leaning over Akashi, he looked down just as his lover gave him a command, and he obeyed, his hand tightening on the sheet, keeping it firmly attached to his waist. With deft fingers, Akashi reached around the sheet where it was joined together by Midorima's hand to grip him directly. Akashi knew exactly how Midorima liked to be touched, and he didn't allow Midorima the time to shove forward as he began to jerk him off.

“A-Akashi,” Midorima moaned. He gave a shudder, the arm braced against the window, and his legs both threatening to give out under the sudden onslaught.

The pleasure mounted quickly, Midorima could already feel the heat of his orgasm building. His hips were rocking forward on his own, humping into Akashi's palm obscenely, but he didn't care. His stomach dropped as though he were on an amusement park ride as Akashi thumbed over the head of his cock, spreading the precome there, and using it to help slick the rest of his length. With that tiny bit of lubrication, Akashi gave a twist of his wrist in a way that made Midorima cry out, and his orgasm was on him suddenly, unexpectedly. He came hard with Akashi stroking him through it, dragging out the pleasure until his body stuttered with aftershocks. Midorima gave a low whine in protest, but didn't dare pull away while Akashi played.

When his lover had milked him completely, he released his cock, and Midorima's shaking legs could support him no more. He crumpled to his knees, and rested for a moment, drawing deep, shaky breaths as he gave himself time to recover.

Akashi did that to him, he had the ability to take his breath away without even trying.

When he raised his head, he found Akashi staring at him, smiling. If it were anyone else who wore that expression, they may have been called smug, but Akashi's smile was soft, almost tender.

There was a very obvious bulge tenting the front of Akashi's kimono, and Midorima unconsciously licked his lips. Akashi shifted, but he did not move away. Instead, he made his body language more open, and Midorima took the hint as he ran his hands up Akashi's exposed leg.

The wetness now staining the front of the sheet around Midorima's waist made him wince. He allowed it to fall to the floor, and kicked it away from him, leaving himself bare.

Turning his attention back to Akashi, Midorima eased his lover's legs apart until one rested over his shoulder, and the other wrapped around his waist. The kimono fanned beautifully underneath Akashi, and fell open as he moved. He was naked, and the sight of his cock, swollen, and dripping from jerking Midorima off made his mouth water.

Midorima's gaze flicked up to his lover's face. Akashi was watching him, unblinking, but there was a slight haze in his eyes. He was begging for it, his cock so painfully hard that when Midorima moved to swipe his tongue at the head, he began to pant. Midorima worked just as quickly as Akashi had, it wasn't the night to take their time. He gave Akashi's length a few firm strokes before opening his mouth, and slowly swallowing his cock down. He splayed his tongue along the underside, and flexed teasing at a sensitive spot before forming a seal with his lips, and beginning to suck.

Akashi gave a low groan, and there was a thud as his head fell back against the glass. The sill was wide enough that Akashi fit lengthwise on it as Midorima leaned over him, knees digging into the plush carpet.

He pulled off, and swallowed, giving himself a moment's break. Akashi's cock glistened with his saliva, which made it easier as Midorima took him down again, only this time he didn't stop. He eased Akashi down his throat, and held for a beat, feeling his throat begin to open before pulling back, and repeating. He didn't gag, but gave Akashi the sensation of the back of his throat massaging his cock.

Akashi was writhing under him, thrashing his head, and arching his back, aching for release. Midorima pulled back, and held the head of Akashi's cock between his lips as his hand jerked the rest of his length. His hand slid easily, making Akashi moan loud, and low. His lover didn't give any warning, and Midorima winced as he felt a hand grip his hair. Akashi didn't push, didn't try, and force his cock down Midorima's throat, but he did give a firm yank as he came undone. Arching one final time, he froze, lips parted in a silent scream as he shot his load into Midorima's mouth.

He pulled off, and looked up at his lover. Akashi was disoriented; panting, and eyes covered in a haze as he came down from the high of orgasm. Midorima got to his feet, touching the side of Akashi's leg, non-verbally communicating his intent.

Leaving his lover to rest for a moment, he yanked the dirtied sheet from the bed, and stuffed it into the hamper. Retrieving a clean sheet from the cabinet, Midorima made the bed up again, tucking the sheet meticulously under the mattress so the surface was without wrinkles. By the time he was done, Akashi had gotten to his feet. He gave Midorima an appreciative smile as he slid the kimono down his shoulders.

Akashi reviewed their schedule for the next day briefly before crawling into bed.

 

Midorima didn't like Akashi's father. He was a stern man who had dedicated his life to his work, and building his empire, none of which were a crime. It was the way he went about it; manipulation and gaslighting, especially when used on his own son. It was the first time that Midorima had seen the second Akashi Seijuro.

When Akashi's father wanted him home early when they were in Teiko, Midorima would at times come along if he had anything basketball-related to discuss with their captain. He would sit with a pad of paper, or a laptop while Akashi was ordered to practise his music, or other activity that was essential to his future. Usually, Akashi was left alone during this time, following orders passed down by his father, but on the odd occasion, Akashi's father would join them to witness Akashi's progression in person. He would stand with his arms crossed over his broad chest, a slight frown on his face. When he was satisfied, he would turn, and leave without a word, but one day he didn't.

It was that day he approached Akashi. Seijuro had stopped playing immediately, lowering his violin, and bow. His body language then was such a way that Midorima had never seen him before. It was slight, but his shoulders hunched away, and his eyes became clouded. It was the expression of someone bracing themselves for a physical blow, only it never came. Akashi's father made no move to hit his son, but what followed had Midorima balling his fists in an effort not to strike the other man himself.

The few words exchanged were soft, and in a level tone. Akashi had not been progressing fast enough for his father's liking, and it was when his father had threatened to force him to quit basketball that the change occurred. A lifetime worth of mental, and emotional abuse had finally reached its pinnacle, and exploded. Akashi stepped forward, and raised his chin, no longer looking down, and away from his father.

“When I tell you to leave, leave. In this world, winning is everything. Winners are affirmed completely, and losers are denied completely. I've never lost at anything before, and I never will. Because I always win, and I'm always right. I show no mercy to those who oppose me, not even my own parents.”

The statement shocked the senior Akashi into silence, but after a moment he looked satisfied. Akashi was allowed to play basketball as long as he won after all. Akashi remained tense, gripping his bow with such fervour that Midorima was sure he would try, and strike the older man with it.

When Akashi's father left them alone once again, there was a horrid clatter, and the rustling of papers. The violin, and the bow had fallen to the ground, forgotten as Akashi crumbled onto the hardwood along with his instrument. Midorima had rushed over to find Seijuro shivering, and sweating.

It wasn't long after that where Akashi kissed him for the first time.

So, Midorima had every right to feel defensive that evening as he stood beside Akashi in front of a ballroom of people. It was a gathering Akashi's father had put together to ensure his son, and heir remained in the limelight with Japan's business community before he went to study in America. Midorima would spend most of the night alone, he and Akashi had discussed it already; due to the high number of people Akashi had to be introduced to, it would be unfeasible for Midorima to remain at his side the entire time.

“Relax,” Akashi soothed, discreetly brushing the back of his hand against Midorima's. “I am wiser than my father now, and I am going to need you later.”

The subtle emphases on the word 'need' never failed to force a shudder down Midorima's spine. He nodded, and watched his lover make his way into the crowd.

He worked his way through the crowd, sometimes standing with his father, and sometimes talking to people on his own. His smile was friendly, but he had a definite presence to him. In a room full of people, Akashi Seijuro was impossible to ignore.

When he had deemed it as close to the end of the night as he would get, Midorima was the first to leave, but he didn't allow himself to relax until he had reached the isolation of Akashi's bedroom, and locked the door behind him. Once alone did he allow himself a deep sigh, and let his shoulders slump.

He was in the middle of loosening the tie at his throat when there was a click of the door unlocking, and Akashi came through it. He looked weary with the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes, not surprising as they had stayed up a good portion of the night before.

Midorima opened his mouth to say something to his lover, but Akashi passed him by, and he felt a firm, deliberate squeeze around his ring finger, which prompted his mouth firmly shut. It was their code, a way for Akashi to tell him what he needed without words because even though Akashi had changed, grown, and become much more calm, his base instincts still wouldn't allow him to beg for it.

Midorima slid the tie over his head, and watched as Akashi moved to the bed. He stripped off his clothing, allowing the pieces to fall hurriedly, and messily in a pile on the floor before he crawled into the bed without another word.

The sex between them hadn't so much changed over the years as it had evolved.

While Akashi lie on his back on the large king-size bed, legs speared open by a metal bar attached to his thighs, it was obvious the trust he had in Midorima. A blindfold slid over his eyes blocked out his sense of sight, and effectively aided in halting most cognitive functions in his brain, allowing Midorima complete control. Akashi strained against the soft rope that bound his writs together, forcing him to keep his arms above his head with the other end of the rope tied securely to the headboard. Akashi was worked up, chest rising and falling as he panted. His head turned from side to side, trying to catch a sound of Midorima in the otherwise silent room.

Akashi had come into his own after the Winter Cup in their first year. He become more comfortable in his own skin, and as such, their bedroom antics had changed as well. While Akashi still wouldn't ask to bottom, when Midorima managed to work him up, he became expressive; a beautiful moaning mess.

Midorima shifted his weight, and the sound of rustling clothing stilled Akashi on the bed. Despite not being able to see, Akashi turned his head towards the sound as though he were trying to gaze through the blindfold, and at Midorima. He doesn't say anything, doesn't beg Midorima for what he really wants. Akashi just waits with the sound of his soft pants echoing in Midorima's head.

He knew there were still guests downstairs. What would they say if they saw Akashi like this, when he was just moments ago the most aforementioned presence in the room?

Midorima doesn't say anything as he approaches the bed, slowly because he knows Akashi likes to be kept waiting. While normally a sin in everyday life, the wait, and the slow ache has been something the redhead has learned to crave.

There is a slight tremble in Akashi's legs, muscle fatigue from being wound so tight for so long, and it reminded Midorima of his own arousal. His cock throbbed in the confines of his trousers as he had been kept waiting just as long as Akashi.

As Midorima moved around the foot of the bed, he had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep the moan that tried to escape. The low humming noise reached his ears now, and he couldn't stop himself from glancing at Akashi. The bar at Akashi's thighs held his legs open enough so Midorima had a view of Akashi's cock and asshole. Akashi was stretched around a dark plug that gave soft pulses against his prostate. His cock had taken on a deep hue, and wept precome onto his smooth, flat stomach. The tips of Midorima's fingers itched to touch, but he restrained himself. These sessions were never about him.

Akashi's lips parted as Midorima's weight pressed him down, the shooter moving to straddle his chest. He never had to pay any mind to the difference in their statures here. Years of playing basketball had toughened Akashi's body, and even though Midorima was sure he would take anything he was given, it didn't stop Midorima from putting the majority of his body weight onto his knees.

He could feel Akashi's pulse fluttering, and betraying his excitement. He wasn't yet completely gone, Akashi was still holding something back. Even after all the time they had spent together, and all their hard work, the impulse to completely dominate just wouldn't die. The habit that was ingrained since his childhood was still difficult for Akashi to let go of, and Midorima still had to coax total submission from him.

He teased Akashi with his weight, leaning back, and fingering the button of his jeans, knowing Akashi could hear the rub of fabric. A gasp so small it almost went unheard left Akashi's lips as Midorima suddenly got to his feet, keeping Akashi's form within arms reach. That tiny sound of protest from Akashi made Midorima give a low laugh.

“What you want, Akashi?” he asked, voice rough, and sounding very much unlike his own.

Akashi gasped, dick twitching at Midorima's voice. He never talked dirty outside their sessions, and Midorima knew his voice was something that would aid in making Akashi come completely undone. When Akashi shook his head, Midorima knelt on the bed behind his lover, turning his attention to the plug that stretched Akashi wide. It held his asshole open for Midorima to fuck into without preparation later. Akashi's inner thighs were slick with lubricant that Midorima had used when he had worked the toy into his lover. Akashi's entire body was tense, a wire pulled so fucking tight, knowing where Midorima was, and waiting to be touched.

It was no joke that Akashi had always preferred to bottom, and the fact that he laid himself bare for Midorima in such a way was a testament to the amount of trust in their relationship. Bit by bit, by physical, and non-physical means, Midorima was determined to slowly wipe away the emotional trauma Akashi had endured. Yet, Akashi's strength of mind wasn't to be underestimated. He was strong, and Midorima saw it everyday. He was going to be everything he had ever wanted.

The end of the plug jutting from Akashi's body was rounded, making it easy for Midorima to slide his fingers through the handle, and give a little tug. The device, still vibrating deep in Akashi, moved against his prostate, making Akashi arch clean up off the bed. Midorima leaned over his smaller lover, his body pressing against the bar between Akashi's thighs, and forcing his legs to his chest. Midorima's taller frame made it easy for him to grab hold of his lover's wrists, and pin them to the bed, preventing him from marking the pretty skin with all his straining against the rope. Akashi gasped, his body compressed, but Midorima gave him a moment, allowing him to adjust to the tightness in his chest.

When Akashi's breaths began to slow, and become less ragged, Midorima moved his wrist, gently twisting the toy. His lover's reaction was immediate as he cried out, and writhed below him. The toy buried deep in Akashi was highly textured similar to a corkscrew, and Midorima's twisting motion coupled with the toy's vibrations was driving Akashi wild.

As Akashi writhed beneath him, unable to drive himself down onto the toy, Midorima leaned down to lick, and suck at his lover's collarbone, making sure to bite down on the skin until it darkened, sure to form purple bruises later. Akashi's moans grew louder, and Midorima couldn't help, but rut against Akashi's thigh, bringing some relief to his cock pulsing against the zipper of his trousers.

The bar prevented Akashi from grinding his cock directly against Midorima, so when Akashi's moans began to rise in pitch becoming more desperate, Midorima smiled. He pulled back just enough to watch the redhead bite down on his bottom lip for a moment before a shudder wracked his entire body, and Akashi came, pulsing thick white ropes across his chest.

“Good,” Midorima praised, reaching to press the small button on the toy, and stopping the vibrations, but leaving the toy buried deep.

He didn't allow Akashi time to go soft. Wrapping his hand around his lover's cock, Midorima stroked, even as Akashi let a low whine, shuddering from oversensitivity. After a few moments, his keening whines turned into low moans, and Midorima released him, allowing his cock to fall hard against his abdomen.

Akashi panted, and Midorima sat back on his heels to enjoy the view. A small part of him wanted desperately to take pictures of Akashi like this; spread wide, out of breath, and doused in come. He knew his lover would never allow it, if those photos were to be found, and published Akashi would be ruined. So Midorima settled for burning the image into his mind, committing it to memory because he was sure it would be used for jerk off material for years.

There were several things Midorima had to be aware of while dominating Akashi so completely. The redhead craved to bottom, but he didn't like pain beyond the small pinch of Midorima's teeth marking him. The second thing Akashi would never tolerate was humiliation. He would play the bottom, moaning, and writhing, taking a cock in his ass, but he would never stand to be humiliated. Pet play, and other humiliation kinks wouldn't fly with him, which never bothered Midorima. He wanted to see his smaller lover come undone, not grovelling on the floor. The final thing Akashi didn't like was a mess. He didn't enjoy come on him, or Midorima fucking him without a condom. He was the son of a major industrialist, and he had to be prepared to be pulled into the coming and goings of the household, or his father's business at any time. There were nights, however, when an exception was made to that final rule. When Akashi was unravelled enough that he no longer cared about anything, but the pleasure.

Midorima kept all these facts in mind as he made his way to the dresser beside the bed. While it normally remained locked throughout the day, would come unlocked during their play. Sitting in the top drawer on a cushion of velvet were an array of shiny toys, cleaned so immaculately they appeared brand new. Midorima picked up a leather band, but it was too small to fit around any wrist. As much as he enjoyed the aesthetic appeal of a metal cockring, the risk of harm to Akashi was just too high.

Moving back over to the bed, he smiled as Akashi had managed to keep himself hard while Midorima moved about the room. Akashi gasped, and tried to jerk into his hand as Midorima fastened the cockring, earning him a light slap to the thigh. Midorima leaned over Akashi again, grinding his cock against Akashi's ass, but this time he observed his lover's hands. The rope around his wrists was tight enough to hold them in place, but not tight enough to cut off circulation. Already there were red marks forming that Akashi would have to hide for days under long-sleeved shirts.

Midorima sat back on his heels again, and gave the toy in Akashi's ass a little tug, drawing a strained moan. Slowly, gently, he eased the toy out, watching Akashi for any sign of discomfort, but all the redhead did was moan, and clench around the toy, unwilling to let it go.

“Easy,” Midorima soothed. “You're almost ready to take my cock.”

At the knowledge that he wasn't going to be left empty for long, Akashi took a steady breath. His hole relaxed, and the toy slipped out easily, clenching once. Midorima hooked a finger, and tugged at the pink, swollen rim, careful as his finger contained no lube. Akashi squirmed, and opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

“Hmm?” Midorima hummed, a question as he eased one finger deep inside Akashi. He was so loose from the toy that Midorima felt almost no resistance, and it made Akashi give a soft, strangled sob.

“Please,” Akashi's voice was soft, having not been used for proper speaking for hours. “Please...Shintarou.”

Midorima studied Akashi's face carefully, and could see every instinct inside Akashi fighting him. It was a delicate moment because Midorima was ripping off the last piece of armour that guarded Akashi's heart. He said nothing, just thrust his finger in, and out of his lover.

“Shintarou.” Akashi arched, trying to take his finger deeper, or force him to add another, and sobbed again when neither occurred. “I want...” Akashi swallowed, and ran his tongue over dry lips. “I need you to fuck me...please.”

Making Akashi Seijuro beg was no small feat.

Midorima didn't acknowledge the fact with words, rather he pulled his finger from Akashi, and leaned back on his heels. He lowered the zipper of his trousers slowly, making sure the sound reached his lover. When he lubed himself liberally, Midorima folded Akashi's legs to his chest once again, and lined himself up. He was still fully clothed, having only removed his tie, but it was part of what Akashi liked, got off on being dominated, and feeling the zipper of Midorima's pants bite into his ass with every thrust.

He slid into the tight heat of his lover in one, fluid thrust, and Akashi's voice tore into a scream at finally getting what he wanted, needed. Midorima filled him to the brim, bottoming out, and groaning at the feel of his lover as he fucked him bare. His height, and position sitting back on his heels lifted Akashi's rear off the bed, and Midorima held him there, fucking into him with quick, hard thrusts.

He wasn't going to last long, not with Akashi moaning, and making those obscene sounds each time Midorima drove into him. Not with Akashi's heat squeezing him so fucking perfectly, and definitely not when Akashi began to chant his name in a steady cadence, begging for it harder. He was already panting, chest straining as he angled his hips to ensure he rammed into Akashi's prostate again, and again, and again.

He had to hold his tongue, keep himself in line, and repeat that this wasn't about him as Akashi arched, wrists straining against his bonds. It took every drop of self-control Midorima had not to slam into Akashi below him, to keep his thrusts steady as Akashi came again through the cock ring, his come adding to the mess already on his chest. _Fuck,_ Akashi was so perfect.

Midorima fucked him all the way through his orgasm before he witnessed something snap inside his lover. Akashi didn't even have time to finish the safeword before Midorima pulled out, and ripped off everything constraining his lover's body. He jammed his hand into his pocket, and flipped the blade open. Before Akashi could draw another breath, Midorima had sliced through the rope around his wrists, throwing it to the side as though it had personally offended him, and pulled the blanket up over his panting, shivering lover. He put himself on top of the blankets with Akashi under, giving him a little physical space as he cradled the redhead to his chest. Silence fell upon the room, broken only by Akashi's shuddering, unsteady breaths.

Midorima could hear the blood pumping in his ears, the steady thump thump rhythm echoing in his head. He wasn't sure if he was still hard, didn't care. All he could do is focus all of his attention on the trembling body in his arms.

Akashi appeared so small right then. While Midorima would never have regrets about the way he dominated Akashi, he couldn't help the tightening in his chest when Akashi became...this. It was the most vulnerable, exposed part of him. When he was pushed to the very limit, and couldn't take anymore. It was these few, precious moments where Midorima paid witness to the true Akashi Seijuro.

When Akashi's breaths began to even out, and his racing pulse slowed against Midorima's hand, it signalled an end to the danger. Midorima closed his eyes, and carded a hand through Akashi's hair, damp with sweat.

After a long while, Midorima was walking the line between sleep, and waking when he felt Akashi stir next to him. Opening his eyes, he was greeted with calm, clear sets of red. Appealing to his exposed, sensitive mindset, Akashi gave him a chaste kiss, but it was so much more. Just like Akashi could never ask to bottom, he could never thank Midorima either.

Akashi's eyes wandered along the length of his body, taking in his clothed state, and his cock that was still hard, hanging out of his trousers. Wordlessly, Akashi sat up, and tugged at his clothing, his hands touching Midorima with an exquisite tenderness. Midorima followed his lead, allowing himself to be undressed, but stopped Akashi with a squeeze to his thigh when he straddled his hips.

“Are you sure?” Normally Midorima wouldn't question Akashi's decisions, but their play had left Akashi drained, mentally and physically. He could see the unease in Akashi's eyes, and feel the shake in his legs even as he lined himself up with Midorima's cock. He wasn't hard, not even close.

“Slowly,” Akashi said simply, sinking down on Midorima's cock. As soon as he was fully sheathed, Akashi leaned forward to rest his head below Midorima's chin, and Midorima took the unspoken cue. Wrapping his arms around Akashi, he rocked up into his lover slowly, planting a kiss on the top of Akashi's head.

Akashi may have been taking it, but at that moment, he had stolen the dominant role away from Midorima. This was no longer about Akashi, and Midorima relaxed into it, enjoying the rare feel of his lover without that thin piece of latex between them. He lasted longer with the languid pace, listening to the tiny whimpering moans of his lover each time he buried himself. His orgasm was gentle, his body freezing under its slow pleasure, and Akashi took the initiative, rocking onto him until Midorima fell limp.

While Midorima rested with half-lidded eyes, Akashi sat up, but he did not pull off. Instead, he entwined their fingers together, seemingly studying both their hands. It peaked his curiosity, and Midorima made a questioning hum, not yet able to form proper words.

“We're going to be separated,” Akashi said. “It's never bothered me. I knew we had different paths to take, but...” He gave a deliberate squeeze to his ring finger, and Midorima frowned as his brain registered their code. Akashi was too drained from their last play, he wasn't ready for another session, and for some reason Akashi's smile made something in his stomach turn cold.

“I was thinking of something to bind us together over such a long distance,” Akashi continued. “A pair of rings, perhaps?”

Midorima's mouth fell slack, and his heart picked up its pace as the realization dawned on him. “D-did you just ask me to marry you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's the writing equivalent of a mic drop? Because that's how I feel after working so hard to finish this monster.

**Author's Note:**

> Finally have a new [tumblr](https://neonnawrites.tumblr.com/) Feel free to drop by and say hello!


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